Free The Long Way Home by Mariah Stewart

guy—no bald spots as far as she’d seen, and no paunch, either—wearing well-fitting jeans and a really terrific smile who showed up on Bay View Road two days ago.
    She walked to the counter and was greeted by the same young man—Josh, according to his name tag.
    “Hey, good morning,” he called to her from the latte machine. “Your regular?”
    Ellie smiled and nodded. “Please.”
    Being recognized as a regular—albeit an anonymous one—made her feel just a tiny bit less alone, a little less like an outsider. Of course, she was an outsider—she knew that—but it felt nice to belong somewhere, even if only at the coffee shop, and only for a few minutes each day.
    Josh delivered her coffee and she paid him, putting the change in the large white mug marked TIPS on the counter. She’d just fixed her coffee and snapped the lid on the take-out cup when she heard someone call her name.
    “Ellie.” Cameron stood near the front windowtable, where a small group—mostly women of varying ages—had turned to look at her.
    Ellie flushed at the scrutiny. Her first thought was that someone would remember her face from all of the newspaper and TV coverage last year. She’d done what she could to change her look, darkening her blond hair and cutting it short. And certainly, her style wasn’t that of a well-to-do Manhattan executive any longer. Gone were the designer suits and highticket shoes and accessories. She’d worn nothing but jeans and sweatshirts or sweaters since she arrived in St. Dennis. So chances were slim that anyone would connect her to the daughter of the King of Fraud.
    Still, why take that chance?
    She waved and smiled to Cameron, but headed toward the door all the same.
    “Ellie, come here,” he persisted. “Come meet some of your fellow St. Dennis residents.”
    Crap
.
    Slapping a smile on her face, she walked to the table, where four faces peered up at her.
    “Ellie, meet Grace Sinclair. Her family owns the big inn that sits out on the Bay not far from your house. Grace also owns the town newspaper, the
St. Dennis Gazette
.”
    The older woman who’d smiled at Ellie the first time Ellie stopped at Cuppachino smiled at her again now.
    Swell. She owns the newspaper
.
    “Nice to meet you, Ms. Sinclair.” Ellie may have been on edge, but she did remember her manners.
    “Lovely to meet you, dear, and please, it’s
Grace
.Cameron tells us you’re fixing up Lilly Cavanaugh’s old house. We can’t wait to hear your plans for the place.” Grace put out her hand and took Ellie’s to give it a squeeze. “Welcome to St. Dennis.”
    “Thank you.”
    “And this”—Cameron touched the shoulder of the pretty curly-haired woman who sat directly in front of him—“is Brooke Bowers. She owns the cupcake shop across the street.”
    “The cupcake baker? You’re Jesse Enright’s fiancée?” Ellie asked.
    “That would be me, yes.” Brooke offered her hand. “Jesse mentioned you’d been in to the office to pick up the keys to your new house.”
    “Jesse’s been really helpful.” Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if Jesse had shared with Brooke just how helpful he’d been.
    “Nita Perry.” Cameron indicated the woman in her late fifties who sat closest to the window. She had shiny black hair pulled back into a severe bun and wore large tortoiseshell glasses. “Nita has an antiques business here in town. I think I mentioned her to you.”
    “You did.” To Nita, she said, “I’ll be calling on you when I get around to inventorying the contents of the house. I’m going to want to sell some things.”
    “Oh, please do!” Nita’s face lit up. “I know that house is filled with some wonderful pieces. Lilly never did get rid of a thing, you know.”
    “You’ll be the first person I call when I get to that point,” Ellie promised.
    “I can’t wait.” Nita’s shoulders shivered slightly with anticipation.
    “And this is Clay Madison, Brooke’s brother.” Cameron pointed to the lone